Angelus de Lumine
by Raven in Red
Summary: All was fair in the rolling hills of Ireland, until the murder of a priest angrily ignites the waning flame that is Grace Reilly's weary heart. When she returns to America, her faith in God, her love for her husband, and her best friend's newfound happiness are the only things keeping her together. Sequel to Angel of Death, Angel of Love. ConnorOC, RomeoOC. During and after BDS2.
1. The Angel Returns

_**The Boondock Saints 2**__: Angelus de Lumine_

By: Raven in Red

All was fair in the rolling hills of Ireland, until the murder of a priest angrily ignites the waning flame that is Grace Reilly's weary heart. When she returns to America, her faith in God, her love for her husband, and her best friend's newfound happiness are the only things keeping her together. Sequel to Angel of Death, Angel of Love. ConnorOC, RomeoOC. During and after BDS2.

**Chapter 1**: The Angel Returns

You're probably hoping that, after a wonderful wedding to the wonderful man that is Connor MacManus, I'm here to tell you that (seven years later) I am the happy mother of two or three children, settling down to a peaceful life in my now-beloved Ireland.

Wrong. Way, _way_ wrong.

As of right now, I have been married to Connor MacManus for almost seven years, and it has not gone as perfectly as so many women desire of their ideal marriage. For the last four years, we've been trying our damned hardest to have a child so our life and marriage will be more complete, but our efforts and prayers have all been in vain.

Mary Rose was our first child. I miscarried her during my seventh month of pregnancy.

Aidan (named after one of our friends who had helped us considerably) was our second. He only lived for two minutes after I gave birth to him.

Liam was our third and last. I miscarried him during my eighth month, only about three weeks before my due date. After Liam, Connor and I just stopped trying. Neither of us have had the strength to take such a huge risk again.

Not only have I lost three precious children, but I have also lost my dear mother. After my daddy's murder right before I met the MacManus brothers, she had been my only blood family left. Now, after she drank a bit too much and got into a perilous car wreck, I became the last living link to the proud Reilly bloodline.

To get through my dark days, it comforts me to know that I'll always have the love of my husband Connor, his twin (and my dear brother) Murphy, and my childhood friend Ellie. Ellie and I have stood together through the thick and the thin, and through the good, the bad, and the ugly. Our ties go back to our days in the preschool sandbox, and they have extended through many college arm-wrestling matches, street fights, "I feel fat" days, and finally through our quite exciting career with the Saints of South Boston.

Since I had been married to Connor, he had moved into the farmhouse that Ellie and I shared on our small horse ranch. Ever since losing Liam, we hadn't shared a bed even once. I guess I was just so scared of becoming pregnant and losing a fourth child that I avoided sleeping with him altogether.

Ultimately, my life had reached a dull, boring lull. Nothing I did seemed to excite me like it used to. I dreaded getting up every morning to work, and I dreaded going to bed every night as it meant that the cycle would just repeat all over again the next morning.

I needed something to happen.

Something big.

Ultimately, I needed to go back home to America.

"Lord, give me a sign," I prayed, kneeling beside my bed one afternoon as I waited for Connor to come home from his long day of work. "I know I can't bear a child, but I know there must be something else that can give my life happiness. I feel so empty. I need something to fill me. I need something that can bring me away from the pain. And I know that, even though he doesn't show it, Connor is feeling the same way. He can't be the daddy he's always wanted to be since he married me, and it's killing him inside.

"Please give us a sign, O Lord. Please let us be happy again."

* * *

"Things just aren't like they used to be," Ellie observed one evening. We were taking our daily horseback ride through the countryside, mostly just to clear our heads and have some girl time.

"I agree," I said, my voice quiet.

"We used to be so lively and so happy," said Ellie, hanging her head a little. "Now you've lost three babies and we're both just so depressed."

"Connor's handling it better than I am," I said.

"Most of it he's probably just holding in," said Ellie. "Men don't show their emotions the same way women do."

"I know, but he won't be able to hold it in for much longer," I said.

"His pain with losing the babies is all emotional," Ellie pointed out. "You actually had to _feel_ the pain of having two miscarriages. You actually had to _feel_ the pain of giving birth before having your heart wrenched from your chest."

"I guess you have a point there," I said. "I just need something big to take my mind away from the pain."

"Don't worry, babe," Ellie said. Her favorite term of affection brought a slight smile to my lips. Since I'd been so depressed over the last few years, I'd developed the slightest of frown lines. "Something big will happen and then we'll both be as happy as we were back in the States. And don't worry; cheering you up is practically my life's mission now."

By that point, we were back at the farmhouse where Murphy and Noah still lived. It was where the five of us – six when my mother had still been with us – all gathered to have dinner each night. It was the only time I would interact with anyone besides Ellie or Connor. I dreaded being out in public, especially if there was any chance of running into a mother with her children. It just tore my heart to shreds. I spoke only to Ellie, and very rarely to Connor. Going to family dinner each night meant one or two hours of total silence, at least from me.

Something about that night was different. A strange silence, beyond what I normally caused, filled the little farmhouse. The five of us sat around the small kitchen table, eating silently, the only sounds being from the scraping of forks or the clink of a glass being set down on the table.

Something was clearly wrong.

I looked over at my husband to find him twitching in a way. It was almost as if something was itching and he couldn't get to it. Murphy, my dear brother, was behaving the same way. Neither twin said a word, and their silence created an uncomfortable thickness in the air around us. Neither of them could even look up and make eye contact.

Finally, when I could take the discomfort no longer and was about to speak, the rumble of an approaching car engine broke the silence. We all got up from the table and walked out onto the front porch, shivering from the chilling night rain. The car pulled up and the boys' uncle Sibeal got out.

"Something's happened!" the old man announced as he moved out of the rain. He was out of breath and clearly in a panic.

"Quickly, then, come in!" I insisted, taking Sibeal's arm and leading him into the much warmer house. I took his coat to keep the cold away from his weakening body.

"What happened?" Noah asked once we had all taken our seats around the fireplace.

"It's so terrible," Sibeal said, letting out a long, cold shudder. "I can't imagine anything worse."

"Well, come on, then," I coaxed, as gently as possibly despite my burning curiosity. "Tell us."

"A priest was found murdered in the Church of the Holy Saints," Sibeal began.

"In Boston?" My breath caught in my throat. "No, it can't be!"

"Aye," Sibeal confirmed. "And that's not even the worst part."

"Then what is?" I whispered in fright.

"He was killed with two shots to the back of the head…" Sibeal's voice trailed off a bit. "And _pennies_ were placed in his eyes!"

"Oh, my God." I knew right then and there that someone was trying to frame my dear husband and brother, as it was their signature killing style that had been mimicked on this poor soul.

"A priest?" Murphy finally spoke. "Did they release his name?" He ground out his cigarette on the ashtray in front of him.

"No," said Sibeal. "But I made a few calls. I still have friends in the diocese there. Kinney… Father Douglas McKinney." Connor and Murphy exchanged a knowing look. "You knew him?"

"Knew _of_ him," Connor corrected. "Everybody did. He was a good man. Youth hostels. Soup kitchens."

"Even made it to the papers sometimes," Murphy added.

"Look, boys," Sibeal cut in. "I think it's best if you just stay put until we try to figure out whatever's goin' on." But the boys didn't listen as they got up from the table and walked right out into the pouring rain.

"Oh, fuck!" I spat out under my breath.

"Ya'd best go talk some sense into them, girls," Sibeal suggested to Ellie and me.

"Yeah, right," Ellie said. "They won't listen to us." But we ran after them anyway. As we sloshed through the mud, following the boys to the barn, I couldn't help but think that maybe this was the 'something big' that I had been waiting four long years for.

* * *

Five minutes later, I sat Connor down on an old barrel and stood above him, taking a pair of heavy sheep shears to the tangled mess that had once been very attractive hair.

"Ya nervous, darlin'?" he asked me, glancing ever so quickly up into my eyes.

"Not in the least," I said. It felt strange to be exchanging words with him after weeks of near silence. "I've been praying for a sign for weeks, and maybe I've finally gotten it." My voice shook with anxiety that I was trying so hard to choke down. My heart buzzed with adrenaline that was now surging through my entire body. I had to fight to keep my hand steady as I cut Connor's hair. The last thing I needed was a horribly infected wound caused by one of the dirtiest of farm tools.

"There we go," I announced once I was finished. "All done."

Without a word, Connor stood up and kissed me. My first instinct was to back off since we hadn't kissed in months, but soon I found myself high on the feeling. It felt like our first kiss, and our second and third and every other kiss we'd shared in our first joyful years together. The long hair of his scraggly farm beard was tickling the delicate skin of my face, but I didn't give a crap. I wasn't going to pass up the best feeling I'd had since first learning I was pregnant.

"You gave me life again," I whispered when he finally had the audacity to let me go.

"Hey, Gracie, give me a hand over here!" Murphy called out to me. "Ellie can't cut hair worth a damn!"

"Hey, watch it, Murph!" Ellie threatened playfully, tangling her best friend in a vicious hug. "These shears are still sharp!" My heart was lifted in joyful laughter at seeing my friend so happy. She and Murphy were joined at the hip as if they had known each other since birth.

"Alright, you kids," Connor said, effectively breaking up the 'fight'. "Now, you girls meet us back here in an hour. Go back home, get yerselves cleaned up, and grab any clothin' and things ya'll need."

"Now, will ya be alright walkin' back in the dark?" Murphy teased, his eyes holding a playful sparkle.

"Oh, you!" I smacked him on the shoulder and laughed my way out of the barn with Ellie right at my side. We linked arms and skipped through the rain, feeling like two little girls on our first day of school. We were soaked to the bone, but we were laughing to our hearts' content. We were going back home! Granted, a priest had been killed to make it happen, but we were going back _home_!

When we got back to our little farmhouse, we got down to business right away. Each of us took one of the quickest showers in the history of mankind before each packing a small duffel bag of clothing, photographs, keepsakes, and especially our rosaries. Neither of us cared in the least that we were leaving our ranch behind because we were finally going back to America.

We were finally going back _home_.

The last thing I did before I left the house was put in a call to Aidan back in the States. Before we'd left, he'd helped cover our tracks, and overall he had been our unofficial guardian angel. He wasn't at home, so I had to leave a message. "Aidan," I said, "It's me, Grace. Listen: plans changed and I'm coming back home. If you stop a moment and think, you'll know exactly why. I don't know if I'll be able to call when I get home. Don't bother calling back, because we'll be long gone from here by the time you get this. I'll see you soon. Bye."

We met the boys back at the barn feeling like our old selves again. We were matched all in black – t-shirts, jeans, leather vests, and knee-length trench coats. Our hair was combed, our faces were washed, and we were ready to take on the world. The boys wore their signature black pea coats and blue jeans, and it was clear as day that they had the same feeling.

The Saints and the Angels walked back into the house, shocking Father Sibeal when we made our appearance.

"Exactly… what do you intend to do?" Sibeal sounded just the slightest bit scared.

Connor's response was a quick flick of his wrist that sent two perfectly shiny pennies clattering down onto the table.

"Every last mother_fucker_," Murphy said, "that had _any_thing to do with it."

* * *

**Author's Note**: yay, sequel! So excited to be starting this one! Anyway, in case you haven't already gotten the hint, please please please go read _Angel of Death, Angel of Love_ before diving into this one. The backstory for Grace and Ellie will be very, _very_ muddy without it. Finally, reviews are my best friends so please send them!


	2. Angels, Take the Stage

_**The Boondock Saints 2**__: Angelus de Lumine_

By: Raven in Red

All was fair in the rolling hills of Ireland, until the murder of a priest angrily ignites the waning flame that is Grace Reilly's weary heart. When she returns to America, her faith in God, her love for her husband, and her best friend's newfound happiness are the only things keeping her together. Sequel to Angel of Death, Angel of Love. ConnorOC, RomeoOC. During and after BDS2.

**Chapter 2**: Angels, Take the Stage

As we boarded a container ship bound for the United States, I had the strange sense that I was at home, and I have no idea why. I mean, Ellie and I were the _only_ women on a ship full of men, so we were _definitely_ going to have to watch ourselves, but we were excited nonetheless. We were on our way home, and that's all that mattered.

"I can't believe we have to _sleep_ down here," Ellie complained as we set our bags down at our allotted bunks in the sleeping deck. The bunk beds were stacked four high and were the narrowest I'd ever seen. And worse: almost one hundred people would be sharing one deck.

"It's the best we can do," I said with a sigh as she and I claimed the top two of one set while Connor and Murphy took the bottom two. "These ships aren't exactly accustomed to having women on board."

"I know; I've just always been accustomed to having my own space," Ellie said, pausing to retrieve her guns and tuck them into her jacket.

"I was, too, until I married Connor," I pointed out. "Now, let's go and get some fresh air. I don't want to spend any more time down here than I absolutely have to."

When we got back out onto the main deck, we walked into everything short of a party. Forklifts were all over the place, moving the various shipping containers to create the big clearing where everyone seemed to be gathered. As the four of us made our way through the throngs upon throngs of people, I was not at all surprised to hear many a cat call being directed at either myself or Ellie. Just our luck, being the only women for miles around. I balled my left hand into a fist, allowing my engagement and wedding rings to give me a little surge of confidence.

As we made our way into the center, we finally realized what was going on. Two men, a somewhat-short Mexican and a much bigger French man, were being prepared for an underground bare-knuckles boxing match. A man off to the side was surrounded by dozens of spectators frantically trying to place their bets. The Mexican had a ferocious glint in his eyes. He casually smoked a cigar while his hands were being cuffed behind his back.

"G-Gracie!" Ellie's voice was tight and panicky. She was smacking my shoulder, frantically trying to get my attention.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"L-look!" she said, pointing to the Mexican. "Oh, my God, he's so fucking gorgeous!" I was taken by surprise, as this was the first time in years that I'd seen Ellie even remotely interested in a man.

The man's back was bare, revealing the words "LA RAZA" in a beautiful Gothic font paired with a tribal sword design. He whipped his head back, sending his long black Mohawked hair cascading down his well-toned muscles. Yes, he was gorgeous. I looked over at Ellie to find her knees literally shaking as she stared. I hadn't seen her that way since she'd had a crush on Danny Jenkins back in the eighth grade.

"Oh, my God," Ellie whispered again as the man caught her eyes. His gaze was fierce, but he passed a wink in her direction. That was the final straw. Ellie was head over heels for this guy.

The Mexican, whose name I'd heard was Romeo, gave one puff of cigar smoke before one of his partners removed it from his mouth. He then cracked his shoulders and neck and jumped into the ring. It was _on_.

Romeo's fighting style was one that impressed both of us. He maneuvered himself in a skillful array of dodges, kicks, and quick little jumps. Ellie and I had always fought similarly, due to our relatively small size, but Romeo made it all the more epic.

Out of nowhere, he was charging at one of the containers, shouting, "Get the fuck outta the way!" He jumped up, kicked off from the cold steel, and swung his cuffed arms swiftly around his legs. When he landed, he now had them in front of him again.

Finally, the French man was on the ground, with Romeo trapping his neck in a vicious scissor lock. The ferocity in the Mexican's eyes could probably frighten the Devil himself. Finally, he let up and jumped back to his feet, signaling that the match was over.

"Hey, he's good!" I admitted as the crowd cheered.

"That's one of the hottest things I've ever seen!" Ellie gasped. Her face was dominated by a brilliant red flush, a perfect fit for her long and straight red locks.

"Well, why don't you go congratulate him?" I suggested, actually about half serious.

"Are you crazy?!" Ellie was trying to sound furious, but the playfulness in her eyes could not be disguised. "You know how I am around men!"

"Oh, alright." I gave in to my friend's shyness. "Come on; let's just find the boys and have a shot or something."

"I would appreciate that," Ellie said. We linked arms and made our way back across the ring, but not before she caught eyes with Romeo and he winked at her again.

* * *

Later that night, the boys and Ellie and I were gathered out on the main deck, getting as much fresh air as possible before we were forced to return to the absolutely stifling sleeping deck.

"How'd he even recognize us?" Murphy asked. He was standing over a seated Connor, making some finishing touches on the crucifixion tattoo on my husband's back. Since we'd gotten married, Connor and I had also inked the words "fortitudo et fides" on the inside of our right forearms. We wanted to match not only as husband and wife but also as partners in crime.

"Ya remember the fuckin' sketches on the news channel?" Connor reminded him, igniting a groan from each one of us. After we'd executed Pappa Joe during his trial, enough people had banded together and provided a pretty accurate rendering of each of us.

"Shit, that's right," Murphy sighed. "Every time they see those composites on TV and they catch a guy, it looks nothing like them. Flawless."

"Just our luck," Connor said. "We draw Leonardo fuckin' Da Vinci as a sketch artist."

"The ones of me and Ellie were even more accurate," I pointed out. "We were never as hidden as you guys were. Some people could even _almost_ put names on us."

"Two days ago, we looked like Jesus Christ," said Murphy. "What the fuck we cut our hair for?"

"Yeah, that's right," Connor muttered. "I don't know, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time, though, didn't it?"

"Maybe we should dye it?" Murphy suggested after a moment of careful thought.

"What?" Connor's eyes, for whatever reason, instantly brightened up.

"Yeah, they're always dyin' their hair in the movies, like a fugitive," Murphy continued. "It's covert and shit."

"What color would you dye it?" Connor asked, clearly beginning to enjoy the idea.

"Lighter? I guess," said Murphy, almost shyly.

"To be _blonde_?" Connor teased, breaking out into a fit of laughter.

"Those two are absolutely ridiculous," Ellie remarked as the two brothers argued back and forth.

"Hell, I've been with them longer than you have, and sometimes I just can't _stand_ them," I added, suddenly aware of the newfound bounce in my voice.

"Hey, you're married to one of them, so that doesn't count!" Ellie argued. "Spouses are _supposed_ to drive each other crazy."

"I admit you have a point there, babe," I agreed, leaning back against one of the metal crates. All of a sudden, I looked back to the brothers to see Murphy stabbing Connor in the back with the tattoo pen and a startled Connor tossing aside a cooking pot filled with boiling water and pennies. Obviously, since we were back in business, they needed to have plenty of their signature calling cards ready.

Just as Ellie and I rushed in to break up the impending fight, Romeo had entered the scene. I can't even begin to describe the look of shock on Ellie's face from his sudden appearance.

"I know who you are," Romeo said, both excited and a little suspicious. "You guys are-"

"Shut it!" Connor cut in, jabbing a finger into the Mexican's chest.

"Oh, this is so fucking cool, man!" Romeo exclaimed. "I'm from Boston, and I love you guys. Shit, everybody loves you guys! Maybe I can get on this thing, you know, bring some _raza_ into this?" His eyes held the excitement of a little boy on Christmas morning. "Hey, is it true that you guys say a prayer before you _grease_ somebody?"

There was a long, dramatic pause, and then Connor and Murphy grabbed the unsuspecting man, tackled him, and pinned him down on the deck. I grabbed Ellie by the arm and yanked her back, the instincts of a big sister suddenly kicking in. I was just a little too scared to get involved. Ellie's lips formed silent, desperate words. She gave a frightened gasp when Connor pressed one of his Desert Eagles to Romeo's forehead. She was probably praying for his life.

"And an awesome wail was heard throughout," Connor bellowed, his voice deep and threatening. At that moment, I couldn't tell whether or not he was serious. Ellie let out a yelp of fright, and I clamped a hand over her mouth. We were just two trembling little girls, quite possibly about to witness a death.

"And the terrible hand of the Lord struck upon the Earth!" Murphy continued, swapping lines with his brother just like they had done back during Pappa Joe's trial.

"And as Almighty God createth you," Connor yelled, pressing the gun even deeper into Romeo's skin. "Now… he calleth you home!" Ellie and I both clamped our eyes shut, but all we heard was a click. "Oops! Busy signal… we'll have to calleth back!"

"Oh, my God, you _bitches_!" I screamed, once the commotion had died down and Romeo had been released. "What the fuck was that all about?" Once I had given the boys a delightful earful, Ellie shook off the shock and shyly knelt down beside Romeo, who was still lying on the deck.

"You alright there?" she asked, politely extending her hand to help him up.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just-" He couldn't finish his sentence once he looked up into her eyes. "Whoa!"

"What?" Ellie cracked the slightest of smiles. She could tell he was hooked.

"I only got a couple glances at you during that match, but _whoa!_" Romeo and Ellie helped each other to their feet. "Now, _this_ is what I call the Good Lord's handiwork!" Romeo bent down and ceremoniously kissed the hand of my blushing friend. "Pleased to meet you, babe. I'm Romeo."

"Elizabeth," my friend said, shyly but politely shaking his hand, "but I go by Ellie."

"Ellie," Romeo muttered, taking in the beauty of her name. "She with either of you?" he asked of the Saints. The look in his eyes was a silent prayer that she would be single.

"Nope." Connor and I held up our left hands to reveal our wedding rings.

"Nope," Murphy and Ellie answered together.

"Then I might just have to get to know this beauty a little better," Romeo said, his voice heavily flirty. He bowed to Ellie and held out his hand. "If I may."

"Of course," Ellie said, her shyness replaced with her trademark flirty attitude.

* * *

**Ellie**

"So, where you from?" Romeo asked, leading Ellie over to sit on one of the many, many metal crates.

"Born in the heart of Boston and raised there my whole life," Ellie answered casually, taking a quick glance into the gorgeous Mexican's eyes.

"Now, what the hell is a pretty little thing like you doing in this kind of a shithole?" Romeo asked. His tone was still flirty, but it had calmed down into some measure of pure curiosity.

"Now, _that_ is an interesting question," Ellie said, excited to be telling her life story to such a man.

"I've got time, darlin'," he said, taking a seat next to her and leaning in a little. "Tell me _everything_."

"Where should I start?" asked Ellie, leaning in a bit as well.

"The very day your pretty face entered this world," whispered Romeo.

"Well," Ellie said as she stood up, stretching as if preparing for a long sports game. "After Grace and I graduated college – she's the one back there wearing a wedding ring, by the way – I went off to med school." Romeo leaned back against the wall, listening intently. "And let me tell you, it's _hell_. No sleep, no social life, _nothing_, so I quit after six months and went back to the streets of my homeland. When I was trying to get home, I was kidnapped and raped by a shitload of Russian mobsters, and Grace and I took them out, putting a bullet in each of their black hearts." The words 'kidnapped' and 'raped' brought flashes of anger and concern to Romeo's eyes. "Then, Grace and the Saints got themselves into some serious shit and were forced to flee the country. I couldn't let Gracie and me be separated _again_, and I was almost as involved as they were, so I hightailed it out of there as well. And now we're on our way back to Boston to take care of some _more_ shit. The end."

Romeo was silent for a minute as he processed Ellie's words. "When you took out the mob guys," he said, "what kind of gun did you use?"

"Six-shooter," Ellie replied, reaching into her bag to pull one of them out for emphasis.

"Aww, man, that's fucking gorgeous," Romeo said in awe, taking the gun from her hands as if it were a priceless artifact. "You took lives with this beauty?"

"Yes, I did," Ellie answered proudly, "with my best friend at my side."

"Girl, that really hits me," Romeo said, taking a step back to gaze completely at her. "I mean, that's _deep_."

"Why, thank you," Ellie said. "I'm honored."

"Well, you should be," Romeo said, his tone serious. "You've joined the Saints on a beautiful, God-given mission."

"Wrong," Ellie pointed out. "Grace works with the Saints. The work that she and I did, we did alone."

"Beautiful," Romeo remarked again.

"Romeo, I gotta tell you something," Ellie said, looking right into his eyes.

"Anything, babe," he said, never breaking the gaze.

"I have a feeling that the boys may not let you join them since they tend to do their own thing, but Grace and I will welcome you with open arms," Ellie said. "We could use a man like you."

"You serious?" Romeo asked, folding Ellie's six-shooter back into her hands.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Ellie declared, crossing the gun over her chest and bowing her head. "Angel's honor."

"Angel?" Romeo inquired with a gorgeous smile.

"Grace and I were always known as the Angels of the Night," Ellie explained, turning around and pulling her hair to the side to reveal the most recent tattoo on the back of her neck. The words "Angelus Noctis" were inked in a beautiful black cursive font. The same mark was inked into Grace's neck as well. "We stood together through many a street fight while we were in college."

"Darling, is there anything else downright amazing that you'd like to tell me?" Romeo was obviously thoroughly impressed.

"We really meant it when we said I'm not with anyone," said Ellie. Her tone couldn't have been more obvious.

"Now you are," Romeo declared in a whisper, taking her hand ever so gently.

"I am?" Ellie played along.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Romeo said, using Ellie's appropriated word.

"Alright, then," Ellie said with a smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Now, let's go check back in with our dear Saints, shall we?"

"Yes, let's," Romeo agreed, looping an arm around her waist while hers found its way around his sculpted back.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Just so we're all on the same page: when I switch over to Ellie's POV, it's going to be in third person, but I'll just put more of the focus on her. I thought it would be a little too confusing if I swapped between two different first person POV's (not just for you as the readers but also for me as the writer).


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